What You Wish For
by LifeIsTooQuick
Summary: The biggest regret of Roger's life was always that he and April got HIV. After a particularly bad day, he gets a chance to see what life would have been like if things had gone differently. And they aren't as perfect as he would think.
1. Bad Day

_I have returned! And with a new story too. Isn't this exciting? I'm sorry this took so long, I was REALLY paranoid about this chapter (still am) I am horridly afraid that I wrote Roger ooc. Please let me know if you think I did, I tried to write him as just having a bad day, but I think I failed and just wrote him as a jackass... I apologize in advance if it seems horrible._

_Major tanks to Jonathan and Kim for putting up with me asking them incessant questions as I wrote this chapter. And extras to Kim, who wrote the DC book rant._

_Speaking of the DC books. I know. Totally off the timeline, but I needed something and it was funny. I apologize for throwing something in that shouldn't exist._

_And, an advanced warning: This story is going to be DEPRESSING and I might have to up the rating to an M, I'm not sure. Let me know if you think I should do that or not._

_Also, let me know if I ever wrote "Edward" instead of "Roger" or "Bella" instead of "Mimi". Writing in two fandoms is messing me up, I keep doing that. And then when I write the Twilight one, I keep writing "Roger" instead of "Edward". I don't know how some of you people do this "writing in more than one fandom thing"... :p  
_

_Enjoy. :)_

* * *

Roger was having a bad day. There wasn't even a real reason for it. Well, ok, there was. Sort of. But not like a day where everything went wrong kind of bad day. It was just one of those days where he woke up in a bad mood and everything and everyone around him irritated him. All he wanted to do was shut himself in his room all day and be alone.

"Daddy!"

The problem was, no one would leave him alone. The door opened and his three-year-old son ran into the room climbing onto the bed.

"Daddy, come pway wif me!"

"I don't feel like it right now, Nathan. Why don't you go ask Mimi?"

"I wanna pway wif you!"

"I don't feel well right now, so go play with Mimi."

"Pwease?"

"Nathan, I don't want to play with you right now! Go ask Mimi!" he snapped. Nathan stood there for several seconds, wide eyed, before fleeing the room. Roger groaned and threw his arm over his eyes. He felt bad for snapping at Nathan-he was only three- but he just wanted to be alone for now.

So, of course, that would be when Mimi intervened. He heard the door open and then quietly shut, but decided to just ignore her. She sat on the bed for about ten minutes in silence before deciding Roger was never going to acknowledge her. In reality, he was seething and trying not to snap at her to get the hell out; it was, after all, her room too.

"So, what's your problem?" she asked.

"What problem?"

She tsked. So he was going to be like _that_.

"Ok, then. Why did you randomly snap at your son?"

"I didn't randomly snap at him. He wouldn't leave me alone about playing a game with him."

"He's your son. Playing games with him is sort of in the job description. And look at me when I'm talking to you." She knocked his arm down and he glared at her.

"No. Making sure he doesn't lock himself in the oven is in my job description. Nowhere does it say I have to play games with him every second of every day."

Mimi stared at him incredulously.

"You've been locked in your room all day! What do you mean 'every second of every day'?"

"You do know you're not supposed to start nagging until _after_ we get married, right?"

"That's it!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air and grabbing his arm, "You are going outside with me and you are going to stop being such an asshole."

"What does going out there have to do with me being an asshole?"

"Maybe if you're around normal human beings, you'll start acting like one."

She dragged him into the living area and he flopped down onto the couch, ignoring the cautious glance he got from Mark and how Nathan slightly flinched. Collins sat in an armchair, reading the newspaper and acting as if he were oblivious to what was going on around him.

"Roger, why don't you come join us in playing Farm Families?" she gestured toward the floor, where Mark and Nathan sat already beside the game board with the animals and haystacks on top of it. Mimi's mother had bought the game for him-along with several other new ones- and that one happened to be his favorite.

"I don't feel like it," he muttered, trying not to snap at her again. He could almost hear her eyes rolling.

"Come on."

"Mimi…" Mark cautioned quietly, "Just leave him alone…"

"I am not going to just 'leave him alone'. He needs to stop acting like such a jerk."

"He's just having a bad day."

Mimi looked back and forth between Mark's pleading gaze and Roger glaring at nothing and gave up with a sigh before sinking to the ground next to Nathan. She was about five and a half months along by now and really starting to show, so it was tougher than usual for her to actually sit down without falling over. If Roger wasn't so miserable, he would've had to work hard not to laugh.

The door slid open and everyone turned to see Benny walking in.

"Hey, everybody," he said, walking over to the couch to sit down.

"Benny, just because your father-in-law owns the building, that doesn't mean you can just walk right in whenever you want," Roger huffed before anyone else could respond. Mimi rolled her eyes.

"No, but the key we gave him does," she said before turning to Benny, "Ignore him, he's having a bad day."

"What's wrong?-Oh…." He got a thoughtful look on his face before turning to Collins with a questioning look. Collins nodded and Benny got a worried look on his face. The door opened again and Rebecca waltzed in with her boyfriend, Danny, behind her.

"Hey, do you guys have any condoms we can borrow? We're all out." Everyone turned to gape at the teens, even Roger showed some genuine emotion. She immediately broke out in a laughing smile. "I'm kidding. We just felt like saying 'hi'."

"I told you not to enter with that," Danny said, "Now they'll hate me."

"Danny, if we haven't started to hate you by now, you're good," Mimi countered from her spot on the floor, smiling at him.

"Why the hell are you sitting on the floor?" Rebecca asked, "Isn't that, like, bad for your condition?" She turned to Roger. "Why the hell are you letting her sit on the floor?"

"If she wants to sit on the floor, Becca, she can sit on the floor. Now, is there a real reason you came over here, or did you just feel like bugging us?"

"I just felt like bugging you guys."

"Well, go bug Tricia."

"That was the initial plan. She and the fam have gone elsewhere for the evening, however. So we came to visit you lovely people. Can I play?" She immediately turned to the floor gang and Mimi nodded. Rebecca sat down next between Mimi and Nathan, shooting a quick, confused glance at Roger. Danny sat down behind her, wrapping his arms around her and she leaned against his chest before talking to Mimi about how her Summer had been going.

"You know what's an outrage!?" Maureen exclaimed as she stormed into the loft.

"The destruction of homeless people's rights?" Mark asked.

"The complete disregard for people's privacy in their homes?" Roger grumbled.

"No! All those stupid Dawson's Creek books!"

Everyone looked at her blankly.

"The books? The show! Dawson's Creek." She started singing. "'I don't wanna wait...for our lives to be over. I want to know, right now, what will it be?' Do-do-do-do-do."

When the blank stares didn't change, she sighed.

"Anyway, Dawson and Joey were a couple. Twice. Then, they put her with Pacey. And, let me tell you, if I didn't have such an amazing girlfriend, I'd hit that." She shot a smile at Joanne and blew her a kiss. Joanne just smiled and shook her head. "Anyhoot, all the books focus on is the Dawson/Joey relationship. They're over! They are so over it's sad! And, they totally don't care about Pacey/Joey. It's never mentioned! Even when they're in the timeline! Pacey's either with Andie, who cheated on him or some random Mary-Sue who's perfect for him! Joey and Pacey are the best! Those books, suck!"

Everyone continued to just stare in silence at her in silence while she walked over to the fridge, opened it, and started munching on a slice of cold pizza from the left-overs box they had left in there the night before.

"Interesting as that was, Maureen, why the hell can't you eat your own food at your own house?" Roger shot at her, "And, doesn't _anyone_ knock anymore?"

"Jeez, Roger, what the hell is your problem today?" Rebecca finally asked.

"Nothing! Why the hell does everyone keep thinking I have a problem?"

Collins tossed his newspaper onto the coffee table.

"Well, I'm going out for a drink. Would anybody like to come?"

Benny bounced off the couch so fast it was as if it had been lit on fire. Maureen and Joanne followed, but Mark declined the invitation, deciding it wasn't fair to leave Mimi and the younger ones alone with Roger when he was in one of his moods. It was silent then, except for the animal sounds of Nathan's game and the occasional comment made by one of its players.

"That is a really annoying game…" Roger muttered after ten minutes.

"God, Roger! Why do you have to bring your misery down on the rest of us?" Mimi finally snapped at him. The atmosphere instantly became tense as everyone stared at the two.

"You're the one who made me come out here!" he yelled back.

"Well, I guess if you're going to be a total jackass, then it would be better for you to just go somewhere else!"

"Fine!" He jumped up off the couch and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.

Everyone sat in silence, staring at the door.

* * *

Roger went down one flight of stairs and sat on the landing outside the Abromviches' apartment, thinking. He wasn't sure whom he was pissed at more- himself or everybody else. He just kept snapping at everyone for pretty much no reason. He got like this last year, too, but that didn't make the misery any less this year when the day rolled around.

"Hey," a voice said behind him and he turned to see Tricia standing there, "What's with you?"

"Nothing, Tricia, go away."

She didn't go away. She walked over and sat down next to him.

"So, were you the one screaming up there just now?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Tricia."

She got an odd look on her face before continuing.

"It might make you feel better. Go ahead, tell me what's wrong. You can even scream at me if you like. I won't get mad."

He glared at her, hoping she would go away. She didn't. Finally he sighed and started talking. Tricia always seemed to have that effect on him.

"I've just been really pissed off today."

"Because…?"

"Today is the two year anniversary of when my ex-girlfriend killed herself."

She flinched.  
"Ouch. And you didn't tell anyone this is why you were upset because…?"

"Why bother them with it?"

"Yes. You snapping at them incessantly is the much better path to take." She rolled her eyes and he had to work hard not to snap at her as well.

"It's just a constant reminder of how completely fucked up my life has gotten."

"It doesn't loom that fucked up to me…"

"What are you talking about/ Of course it is! Tricia, I'm twenty-three years old and I'll be lucky if I ever manage to make it to thirty. I have a fiancée who's not much better off and a kid on the way who will probably also die before it even hits double digits! How is that not fucked up?" She just stared at him, not answering. "I just wish my life had turned out differently than this."

"Like how?"

He scoffed.

"Tons of ways. Mostly, though, I just wish we had never gotten that damn HIV."

She thought that over.

"You think that would've helped things?"

He looked at her incredulously.

"Yeah. Without HIV, I could probably be at least semi-normal right now. April wouldn't have killed herself. We wouldn't have to constantly worry about paying for that damn medicine. I wouldn't have to constantly wonder whether I'm going to make it to the end of the year, or even the end of the week. You're lucky you're young and smart, Tricia. You have the ability to think things over and not make shitty mistakes like I did. I could get sick any day and die and leave all the people I care about behind. I would have to leave Mimi alone to take care of Nathan. Nathan wouldn't have any parents. My baby wouldn't even get to know its father. Nothing is worse than this. So, yeah, I think that would've helped things."

She got another odd look on her face.

"Ok, then. If that's how you really feel…"

He gave her a weird look, wondering what the hells he was saying.

"Hey, weren't you out with your family."

"What? No, of course not. What would make you think that?"

"Becca said you were."

She glanced back up toward where the loft was.

"No, she didn't."

"Yes, she did."

"No, I'm pretty sure she didn't."

"How the hell do you know what she said, Tricia?"

"Because I was listening. And stop calling me Tricia, it's getting annoying. She's out with her family."

Roger stared at her, debating between whether he should yell at her or leave. He decided to leave.

"Ok, Tricia, if you feel like being an annoying little pest right now, then fine. I'll go."

"If you're sure," she called after him, "And stop calling me 'Tricia'."

He turned around to yell at her, but slipped on the step and tumbled down the flight of stairs he was on. He felt his head crack against the landing and made a feeble attempt to get up before everything went black.

* * *

_And there's chapter one. I apologize for the cliffhanger, that just looked like a good place to leave off. I'll try to get two up as soon as possible, since I know you all are shaking in your little seats with anticipation. :p_


	2. What the Hell?

_Behold! Chapter two! I'm sorry for the delay, I had major Calc problems this week. . _

_I'm posting without my beta today, so I apologize for any mistakes._

_I also apologize for the reemergence of the word ~shudders! "pookie". It's necessary.  
_

_Enjoy. :)_

* * *

The first thing Roger became aware of as he regained consciousness was his head hurt like hell. I pushed himself up slightly and then immediately gave up on that idea, as he got a major head rush and his head started pounding even worse. He dropped back down with a groan and realized he wasn't on the floor like he thought he would be. He opened his eyes and glanced around, realizing he was laying down on the couch in the loft. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows, so he must've been out for a while.

"Oh, good, you're not dead," he heard a voice say and he glanced to his left to see Mark entering the living area, "Let me know if your vision starts to get blurry or something, I'm afraid you might have gotten a concussion." He walked over to the kitchen area and started making himself a sandwich.

"What the hell happened?" Roger asked, slowly getting up off the couch. He felt like shit.

"I have no idea. I woke up this and when I went to leave for work, you were lying at the bottom of the stairs. I had to carry you back up here. I didn't feel like carrying you all the way to your bedroom, so I just left you on the couch."

"Oh, yeah…" _Well, thanks, Tricia… _he thought. Why the hell hadn't she gotten help for him or something? He got up and walked over to sit at the metal table and was surprised to see Tricia sitting there, swinging here feet back and forth. She smiled at him and wiggled her fingers once he had noticed her. Think of the devil…

"What the hell are you doing here?" His mood hadn't improved much since last night, mostly thanks to all the pain he was currently feeling, and Tricia reappearing after her abandonment the night before was not helping.

"I live here," Mark replied, giving him a weird look.

"I know that, Mark. I was talking to Tricia."

Mark turned around and glanced at the room.

"Who?"

"Tricia." Roger gestured toward the teen sitting at the table. She had now stopped swinging her legs and was leaning forward slightly while gripping the underage with her hands. Mark looked like he thought Roger had lost it.

"Who's Tricia?"

"Our neighbor. The one who lives downstairs."

"Oh, that's her name?"

Roger just stared at him, trying to not punch him. He was feeling bad enough without Mark fucking with him like this. Roger just rolled his eyes and walked toward the bathroom. Maybe he'd feel better after a shower. Tricia followed him. He turned around and glared at her.

"I'm not in the mood now, go bother Mark."

She made a very interesting face that showed that she was trying very hard to not laugh. Mark looked like he was now convinced that Roger was insane.

"Roger, who the hell are you talking to?"

"I told you, I'm talking to the annoying five foot brunette teenager that has decided bothering me last night wasn't enough for her." He glared at her again as she smiled politely.

"Roger…" Mark took a cautious step toward him, examining him thoroughly with his eyes. "Are you high?"

"What? No! Of course not! What the hell would you make you think that?" Ok, now he was pissing him off more than Tricia was.

"I don't know. Maybe the fact that you're talking to and about someone who's not there…"

Roger stared at Mark, then at Tricia, then Mark, then Tricia.

"All right, then. I'm through being the butt of your guys' annoying little joke. I'm going to take a shwoer. Why don't you bug Collins or something?"

That just made the shocked and worried look on Mark's face deepen. But before he could respond, Roger turned around and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and locking it. He leaned against the door with his eyes shut, trying to calm down.

"That wasn't very nice, you know," a voice suddenly said and he jumped, his eyes snapping open. He turned to see Tricia sitting on the toilet with the lid down.

"Tricia! What the fuck are you doing here?!" he snapped. Then he turned around and glanced at the still-locked door he had just been staring at. "And how the hell did you get in here?"

"You should be nicer to people, it would help you make more friends," she went on. "You can't get on with just Mark and Maureen, you know."

He decided to ignore her.

"Will you please get out of here and leave me alone?"

"No."

"Would you rather I throw you out?"

"I'll just come right back. I have to. I'm not allowed to leave the area."

He stared at her, unsure of what to say.

"Why?"

"It's my job."

"Your job? So, what? Is Jodie paying you to annoy me now or something?"

"I've never even met Jodie, so no."

"Right…You've never met your sister…"

"She's not my sister. She's Tricia's sister."

He grit his teeth, trying not to physically throw the girl out of the bathroom. He had a strict no man-handling girls policy.

"You are Tricia."  
"No. I look like Tricia. There's a difference. When you see two twins do you say one is the other just because she looks like her?"

"If you're not Tricia, then who the hell are you?"

"I'd tell you, but you can't pronounce the name, so you can just call me Tricia." She giggled at the end of the sentence.

"Well, now that that got us nowhere, will you get out?"

"You don't realize what happened, do you?" she asked standing up an walking toward him.

"Yeah. I fell down the stairs, and you abandoned me." He knew it sounded childish, but he couldn't help it.

"If you mean what happened last night, that wasn't my fault. You and Mark got into a fight while you were high and you stumbled out the door. You tripped on the stairs and fell down them. Mark told you the rest."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's what happened." He rolled his eyes.

"It's the truth."

"It's impossible. I Haven't been high in almost two years."

Yes, you have. You do it an a daily basis."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

She got a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Look in the mirror," she finally said.

"Why do I have to look in the mirror?"

"Just do it and I'll go wait for you in the living area."

He sighed in frustration, but decided to do it. Anything to get her to leave him alone. He turned toward the mirror and gasped. What the hell had she done? His hair was short, really short and bleached blond. His face looked paler and he had dark circles around his eyes. But even as he tried to figure out what the hell would possess that demon-teenager to do that, he realized that she couldn't possibly. The circles looked too natural, his eyes were bloodshot, and he just looked sick and unhealthy. There was no way she could've just made him _look_ like this. What the hell had happened?

"What the hell happened?" he asked, turning to her with wide eyes.

"You got your wish."

"What wish?"

"You never got HIV. You and April never went to that alley on that day and got that needle and, so, you don't have HIV."

He gaped at her.

"And, yes, I'm serious. Why the hell do you think Mark can't see me? By the way, it's probably not a good idea to talk to or about me when anyone else is around. It makes you look crazy."

He continued to gape at her.

"Wait, so…Whoa re you?"

"I told you, you won't be able to pronounce my name."

"Ok, then, _what_ are you? Some kind of fairy?"

She laughed.

"Yeah, let's go with fairy, I think it's cute."

Roger just stood there, trying to take everything in.

"Well, I'm going to go chill out there while you take your shower. I'm not some creepy, stalker-like pervert." She smiled at him and before he had a chance to respond, disappeared.

He just stared at the space she had been, thinking.

* * *

It turned out it wasn't just his face that looked sick and unhealthy, it was pretty much his entire body. He was way too thin and pale and, apparently, he was still using drugs. Which explained why Mark kept thinking he was high. He wondered how he could apologize for snapping at him without looking insane again. "I'm sorry, but before I fell down the stairs I was in an alternate reality of this where I had stopped using drugs almost two years ago." yes, that would definitely help the "I'm not insane" case.

The more important problem for him to focus on now was how to stop, because there was no way in hell he was going to keep using that shit. Now he knew how good it felt to be off it. He wondered if Mark would help, or if he would've long-since given up on him by now.

As he walked into the living area, there was a knock on the door. Mark slid the door back to reveal Maureen and Joanne standing there, both looking semi-frazzled. Maureen knocked? Odd. Roger couldn't imagine any alternate universe in which Maureen had manners…

"Hey, Mark," Maureen said, still standing outside in the stairwell.

"Hey, Maureen. Come in," he stepped aside to let them enter, "You guys don't have to knock, you know."

She just half smiled at him before standing awkwardly in the center of the living area.

"So, how is everybody?" she asked cautiously.

"Ok. Roger fell down the stairs earlier. Or last night, I'm not sure when… I found him out there this morning."

She got a look on her face like this was the worst piece of news she could have ever heard.

"Is he ok?"

"I'm fine," he said, finally deciding to enter the room, "I acted like a total psychotic asshole to Mark, though." He nodded at Mark. "Sorry about that."

All three of the people in the room glanced at him with shocked, weird expressions on there faces. Even Joanne, who had looked really pissed off since she had entered the loft.

"What?"

"Nothing," Mark said quickly and he turned back to Maureen and Joanne, "So, what are you guys doing today?"

"We're going out to dinner," Joanne said briskly before Maureen could respond. Maureen turned to her with a look on her face that was a cross between annoyance and repressed anger.

"You know, Pookie, I told you to just wait in the car."

"And I told you I was fine with coming up."

"Bullshit, you hate coming up here," she turned to Mark and Roger, "She just wants to make sure I'm no cheating on her."

"That is not true!"

Maureen dropped her weak pretense of politeness and retaliated.

"It _so_ is! Don't even lie. You are so paranoid."

"Like you've given me a reason not to be!"

Mark placed his head in his hands, looking caught between embarrassment and mortification. Roger just gaped at the two, not able to believe they would get into this bad of a fight with each other. And in someone else's apartment.

"Oh, please! It was one time! And that was months ago…"

"It was two times!"

"I was drunk that one time, it doesn't count."

"Yes, because you had absolutely no control over how much alcohol you drank." She rolled her eyes.

"You know what? I don't know why I even bother going anywhere with you. It always turns into some huge ordeal!"

She turned on her heal to leave. "Bye, Mark. Bye, Roger!" she called over her shoulder before storming out the door.

"_You_ don't know why _you_ bother going anywhere with _me_?!" Joanne screeched, heading after her without a good-bye. They could still hear the two as they argued down the stairwell and out onto the street.

Roger and Mark stood motionless, just staring at the open door. Finally, Mark sighed and walked over to close it. Once it was closed, he leaned against it with his eyes shut.

"Do they do that often?" Roger asked. Mark's eyes snapped open and he gave him a weird look. Shit. Apparently, Roger should already know how things are. He was going to have to be more careful about the questions he asked.

"Man, you really are out of it when you're out, aren't you?" Roger just gave him a blank look and he sighed again. "They do that all the time. And it's always over the dumbest stuff." he shook his head. "I don't know why they don't just bother breaking up already and trying things out with someone new…"

They stood there in silence after that until a crash caused them to turn toward Roger's bedroom. The doorknob jiggled a few times before it crashed open and a girl with bright red hair stumbled out, laughing.

"Hey, guys!" she giggled, "I had a really hard time with that door just now!"

The boys stared at her-Mark in resignation, Roger in shock. Even though he knew he was supposed to not acknowledge her presence when around other people, Roger couldn't help but shoot Tricia a look and she shrugged at him with that same annoying knowing smile on her face. He turned back tot eh girl who had just stumbled out of his bedroom.

"April?"

* * *

_I have two AP tests next week, so I apologize in advance if the next update takes a while. :(_


	3. Take Your Chance

_Hi. Please don't kill me. I graduated. I don't know if any of you have graduated or not, but you of a lot of stuff when you graduate. I had practices, end-of-year stuff, Senior stuff, the ceremony, convocation, grad parties (I still have those) I'm currently cleaning my house for my own grad party. It's crazy. And on top of that I couldn't figure out what, exactly, to do with this and the next two chapters. (I do now, though, thanx to my awesome friend, Kim, who gave me some ideas.) I also could not physically bring myself to write the ending of this chapter-it made me a little queasy and I did not enjoy writing it.... :p_

_I want to take some time to give a little shout-out to two awesome people. First, is datagirl3 (Obviously, I love that girl. She's, like, one of the coolest person on here) for not ever, ever giving up on me throughout the entire time I have been writing this series, no matter how long the waits are between updates. She still continues to PM me and everything and it really helps to keep my stamina up when I don't feel like writing anymore. Second, I want to thank lianaluvsrent for giving me the sweetest review I have gotten in a long time. It made me feel so awesome about myself and I couldn't stop smiling as I read it. That review is, actually, what made me start on this chapter even though I wasn't sure what to do and didn't really feel like writing after all the graduating stuff I had to deal with these past few weeks. And you all shoudl thank those two, as well, because, while I love all of you guys, they are pretty much the reason I ended up finishing an update for you guys this time and will be finishing more._

_Enjoy. :)_

* * *

Roger could do nothing except stare at her. She had looked up after he said her name, though, and once she saw him her face lit up like a Christmas tree and she stumbled over to him.

"Roger!' she exclaimed as she threw her arms around his neck, "Ohmigod, baby, hi! Where _were _you? I was waiting for you for the longest time, but you just did not show up and I was bored, so I shot some without you. I hope you don't mind. You don't mind, right, babe?"

He continued to stare at her.

"So, where were you?" She was still hanging off of him and the small part of his brain that hadn't gone into shock was doubting she would be standing if she wasn't hanging onto him. He still remained staring at her, speechless.

"He was at the bottom of the stairwell," Mark said apathetically from the metal table, where he was filing paperwork.

"What?" She laughed at that. "Babe, what were you doing down there?"

More staring.

"He fell down them God only knows when," Mark answered, still emotionless. Then he sighed and stood up and walked over to the door. "I'm going to go visit Collins."

"Have fun!" April giggled after him and he rolled his eyes as he slid the door shut behind him. She finally disentangled herself from him and sauntered over to the fridge, pulling it open and glancing inside. (hitting her head on the top as she bent over)

It took another long moment before it finally hit Roger that April here. In the loft. Alive. Knocking over random shit in the fridge as she searched for God only knew what. What the fuck was going on? He knew he didn't have HIV anymore, did that mean April was still alive? He guessed so. After all, if he didn't have it neither would she, and then she wouldn't have killed herself. This wasn't something he had thought of earlier as he showered. What the hell was he going to do?  
In true Roger fashion, he ran. Well, not really ran, just walked out the door and down the stairs, ignoring April shouting "Babe, where are you going?" after him.

Once he got outside he just kept walking. He wasn't sure where the hell he was going, but he needed to get away from the Twilight Zone episode that was going on in his apartment and think. He walked for about twenty minutes before he finally stopped and sat down on a bench at an abandoned bus stop.

"What the hell did you do that for?" a voice suddenly asked, causing Roger to jump almost a foot off the bench.

"Jesus Christ, don't do that!" he shouted and Tricia smiled amusedly again.

"Well…?"

"Well what?"

"Why did you just run out on your girlfriend like that?"

"I did not just run out on her I just….I just left to think…"

"About…?"

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe the fact that my long-dead girlfriend is all of a sudden alive and in my apartment! And on the day that is supposedly the anniversary of her death. That might need some thinking over to get used to."

"You're so cranky."

"This is just a lot to adjust to, it's really surreal. I'm not exactly used to dead people rematerializing."

"What, did you think she would've still killed herself or something? I mean, what would her motivation be?"

"I don't know, I just didn't expect this."

They sat in silence for a while after that.

"You know, I can't figure you out," Tricia finally said.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"First you bitch non-stop about how fucked up your life is. How everything is all wrong and you wish things were different. Now, things are different, and you're _still_ bitching."

"I'm not bitching!"

"Well, you sure as hell aren't embracing."

"I'm just thinking. I told you, this a lot to take in."

"You don't even know the half of it…" she muttered so quietly he wondered if he was supposed to hear her. He decided to just ignore her.

"So, what, exactly, am I supposed to do?"

"Go back there and live your new life." Roger scoffed at that. She made it sound so easy. "I'm serious. This is what you wanted, Roger. A second chance at all the stuff you fucked up. You can finally do things right and make your life different like you always wanted to. Why are you sitting out here angsting?"

He tried to think that over, but it just made him want to walk again.

"You're right, I guess…"

"Of course I am. I'm a fairy. Fairies are never wrong." She laughed at that.

"I think I'm going to go for a little more of a walk, though, to think things over a bit more."

"Ok. Thinking's probably better for you, anyway. It doesn't make people on the streets stare at you like you're crazy." Then she started snickering as Roger glanced up and met the gaze of some people who looked concerned. Oh, yeah. They couldn't see Tricia. He probably looked schizophrenic just now. He just stood up and took off walking down the street, averting their gazes as they scurried to get away from him and ignoring Tricia's snickering, which had gotten louder.

Tricia was right; this was what Roger had wanted for two years. A do-over. A chance to make things right and the way they should be. He shouldn't be spending his time worrying over this random change and how drastic a change it had been. He should, as Tricia put it, be embracing it and making the best of things. He wasn't sure how long he had been walking before he finally decided to head back home, to whatever he may find there.

* * *

He entered the loft to find its two occupants somber. What had happened now? April was laying down on the couch, her high evidently gone, with tears streaming down her face. Mark sat at the metal table (he did that a lot in this universe) staring out the window.

"What happened?" Roger asked as he walked over to the couch. He sat down at the space on the couch April wasn't occupying and she sat up and leaned her head against his shoulder. Even seeing some weird little apparition of his ex-neighbor that no one else could see was not as weird as that.

"Abby just called," Mark said, not looking at him, "Clark died this morning."

"What? How?"

"He od'ed."

Roger just starred disbelievingly at the coffee table in front of the couch. Clark was dead? Clark was one of his best friends. They had met last year at one of the clubs he and April had gone to. (back when they used to go out) He was a pretty cool guy and would often get high with Roger and April. Roger couldn't believe he was dead…

Wait…What? Roger had never met that guy. Where had those memories come from? He glanced at Tricia, who was sitting at an armchair, looking as somber as everyone else. Looked like she wasn't offering an explanation.

They all just sat there for a while, April crying on Roger's shoulder, Roger staring at the table, and Mark staring out the window. Nobody said anything. Nobody could think of anything to say. They had all been such great friends with him and he was a great guy to hang out with. Finally Mark couldn't take the silence and stood up, grabbing his coat.

"I'm going out. Abby said she'll call some time tomorrow with details about the funeral." as he walked out the door Roger heard him mutter "I can't believe we have another funeral…"

The room was silent again after that.

"I can't believe he's really gone," April murmured what felt like hours later.

"Yeah…" Roger agreed. It scared him. Clark was always so smart and careful. If this could happen to him, it could happen to anybody. Who's to say he wasn't next? Or April? This just fueled his desire from this afternoon to get clean. He couldn't just waste the rest of his life on that stuff. He got off the couch and stretched.

"I'm going to go get a drink, do you want anything?"  
She just shook her head and he headed out the door and down the stairs to the vending machine on the bottom floor. As he waited for the pop he had chosen to fall he heard the door to the apartment building open and close. He opened the pop and took a sip, thinking before turning around to head upstairs. He froze as he saw the two people who were already heading up the stairs. One of them was Mark. The other was Maureen. She looked as miserable as he felt and from the way the two acted he suspected Joanne had more than just those two times that were months ago…

That was when he was hit with the first time they had done that. Maureen had shown up, pissed off about some fight she and Maureen and gotten into. She went on about how Joanne never appreciated her and she didn't know why she stayed with her. The shouting lead to tears, which lead to Mark comforting her, which lead to them making out, which lead… basically to what was going on right now.

Maureen was using Mark for comfort and he let her do it with that false little hope that she would come back to him for a real relationship. It was pretty pathetic, but who was Roger to tell him that? He was a job-less druggie ex-rocker. That was just as pathetic.

He headed back upstairs, thinking about this new life and the differences from his old one and wondered what else he was going to find out.

Mark and Maureen weren't in the loft when he got there, which (with the voices he could hear from Mark's bedroom) pretty much confirmed his suspicions. April wasn't there either and judging by the noises coming from his room, guessed she was in there. There was just Tricia sitting in that same arm chair.

"So, what was with that whole Clark thing?" he finally asked her.

"What about it? He was your friend."

"I know."

"So, what are you asking?"

"How do I know that?"

"Well, if you're going to be living like this, you need to know what happened the past two years."

"And just knowing about Clark is going to help me? And when Mark and Maureen started that." He gestured toward Mark's door.

"It'll all hit you eventually. It just comes gradually. Gaining all the memories you could have had from two years is a lot to handle, we don't want you having a break-down from the stress of some random new memories coming from pretty much nowhere."

"Can't I at least get the vital ones now so I don't look like a lunatic in front of everybody?"

She shrugged.  
"You'll get it when you need it.

"I'll get it when I need it…" he muttered. "Well, right now I need some sleep. This has been one crazy day. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow with no bad mood and this having been some crazy dream."

He entered his room to find April laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Roger sat down at the edge of the bed and started taking his shoes off. He wondered if he should say something. What do you say to the girlfriend who had pretty much been dead the past two years? Apparently, she didn't want to talk since she leaned up on the bed, wrapped her arms around him, and started kissing up and down his neck.

It felt a little weird. Ok, very weird. Not only had she been dead, but he was with Mimi now, this sort of felt like cheating. Then it hit him. Mimi! Where was she? What was she doing in this alternate universe? Did she have another boyfriend? Did she still live in the apartment downstairs? Had she moved somewhere else?

"Well, you seem in deep thought about something," April noted.

"Uh…Yeah…Just…Thinking about Clark…" What was he supposed today? "I was thinking of the girlfriend I had in this other universe where you had killed yourself."? That probably wouldn't have gone over very well…

"I know, I'm going to miss him. I can't imagine being Abby right now…" She trailed off and after a few moments resumed her kissing. "But, I know what'll make us feel better."

She hopped off the bed and walked over to the beside table drawer where she pulled out a little baggie of white powder.

"April no…" he protested.

"What? Why not?"

"Do you realize this stuff just killed one of our best friends? And to feel better _we're_ going to use it? Doesn't that seem a little fucked up to you? Can't we just forget that stuff for one night?"

A part of her seemed to get what he meant, but there was still that longing look as she stared at the baggie. Finally, she tossed it into the drawer and immediately returned to the kissing, as if she were trying to distract herself as quickly as possible. Needing a distraction himself, he quickly obliged.

* * *

_And there it is. I really hope I could say updates will be more frequent now, but it all depends on how Nazi-like my mom gets with cleaning for the next two weeks. I will definitely make sure it is more speedy than that last horrible one was. Plus, now I not only know where I'm going, but how to get there, so actually writing the chapters shoudl be easy. Thanx for your patience, guys, you all rock. :)_


	4. Funerals

_Hey, everyone. I got my chapter finished in a timely fashion this time! Aren't you proud of me? :p So, I have some cleaning to do for my grad party (which is this Saturday) then I am leaving for ICON (a week long trip to St. Louis, then Dallas, and then Nashville.) which means I was going to tell you guys it might be around two weeks before my next update. However, I just got a laptop for my graduation, so if I get some free time next week, I might be able to update sooner. :)_

_Thanx to Steph, again._

_Enjoy. :)_

* * *

Clark's funeral was the following Saturday. Everybody dressed up in their best attempts at looking dressy and presentable and trudged over to the church his parents had chosen to have the ceremony and burial at. It was horribly ironic, since Clark was Atheist and wasn't exactly quiet about it.

They were forced to sit there for nearly two hours as a priest went on about how great a person Clark was, focusing on his church goings as a child (the only times he did go to church) and the parts of him that made him a "proper member of society". Basically, all things that he had done before turning eighteen and getting the hell out of his house. It seemed wrong sitting there, listening to this sermon being delivered about someone that didn't sound at all like the Clark Roger had known.

After the priest was done a few people got up to speak. His mother was first, basically repeating everything the priest had said about her son. His sister also said a bit, followed by one of his friends, and then it was Abby's turn. She walked up to stand at the front of the church, avoiding the death glares from Clark's mother very well.

"Clark was my very best friend, my boyfriend, and the most important person in my life," she managed to choke out through the tears that were threatening to spill over. She took a moment to stop and bent her head, wiping her eyes furiously. She took a deep breath and attempted to continue. "He always." A sob ripped its way out her chest. "I'm sorry," she choked out, "I just loved him so much and I can't believe he's gone." She then broke down crying and Maureen abandoned her place between Mark and April to comfort her. April quickly joined her and the two lead her back to her seat, rubbing her back and hugging her while whispering words of comfort.

Roger just stared helplessly. He was pretty useless in these situations, never sure how to make someone feel better. He always knew for Mimi. He could never quite explain how, but he always just knew what to do. For others, he was usually at a loss.

The priest resumed his position and asked if anyone else would like to say anything. Roger would've liked to, but he wasn't sure what to say. He was always bad at those, too. He never knew what to say. That was always Maureen and Mark's forte. Maureen was very good at conveying her message on a very humanistic level and, despite his usual apathy, Mark was good at sharing stories that best represented the person. Roger could barely think of two words to say most of the time. And whenever he did try to speak, it always came out all wrong. That's why he rarely spoke at funerals. He hadn't even spoken at his own sister's.

_What?_

Roger instantly began looking around for Tricia. She seemed to always show up when he got a flash like that. He couldn't find her. Did that mean it wasn't true and he was just crazy? Or that she just didn't feel like showing up? He hadn't even noticed everyone else getting ready to walk down to the burial site.

"Roger, are you coming?" Mark asked him. Roger just nodded numbly and followed where everyone else was walking.

* * *

After the coffin was lowered into the ground, everyone started to disperse, either back to Clark's parents' house for the luncheon or off to do their own thing. Maureen and Mark had already left together (Maureen had had a fight with Joanne after she refused to go to the funeral with her, so it was no guess as to where they were going.) Roger just stayed, staring at the grave where two men had started covering Clark's casket with dirt.

"You coming?" Roger jumped slightly at the sound of April's voice.

"Uh…I think I'm going to just walk around for a little bit first." She nodded. She knew better than to ask if he wanted her company. He usually preferred to be alone when he was like this.

"I'll meet you at home, then." She turned and left.

Roger continued staring at the men burying the casket before turning himself and walking in the opposite direction. This was the same graveyard Angel was buried in and he decided he would go visit his grave, like he often did when he wanted to think.

Rebecca was dead? How? Why? What had happened? Why could he remember her dying and attending her funeral, but not the actual news or anything leading up to it? And where the hell was that damn fairy when he needed her?

"You called?"

"Yeah, where were you?"

"I would tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." She smiled at what she thought was a nice, witty comeback. Roger just kept walking. "Ok, then. Why bother calling me if you're going to ignore me?"

"Why didn't you tell me Becca died?"

That stopped her.

"Because you didn't need to know."

"I didn't need to know?"

"Yep. You could've gone on, at that moment, and done everything exactly the same way as you would've whether you knew or not. Now, however, you need to know."

He decided to ignore that.

"What happened?"

"She killed herself."

He felt his eyes almost fall out as he stopped mid-step and stared at her.

"Well, not on purpose, so I'm not sure whether it actually counts as killing herself."  
"Are you going to explain that or am I better off not knowing?"

"She just had a lot to deal with. I guess you never really realized how important all those letters were to her. I mean, you guys get into this huge fight. You run off angry. About a year later, she writes you back, apologizing and asking for your forgiveness because you're her brother and she doesn't want you guys to hate each other forever. Especially since your grandmother was starting to get sicker, her best friend had moved away, and your parents were starting to get harsher and harsher about everything she did."

"What did I do?" He had a feeling he didn't want to know.

"You burned the letter without opening it. She called a little while after that and you just screamed at her on the phone before hanging up on her. By then your parents had started doing everything they could to stop her from talking to Danny and your grandmother was on her death bed, so she started cutting herself. It was the day after her funeral that she cut a little too deep."

Roger stopped walking again and just stared ahead, not really looking at anything. He had killed his sister. Not literally, but his actions had lead to her death. He tried not to focus on the irony of the situation. The catalyst for him wishing for this was the memory of his girlfriend who had slit her wrists open. Now he got that wish, with his sister slitting her wrists open instead. He continued walking.

"So, where are we going?" Tricia asked as she gave a little sprint to catch up with him.

"Nowhere, don't worry about it." He had to talk about something else. "How did Danny take it?" Why the hell had he asked that? There was no way _that_ was going to make him feel better.

"He od'ed the day before Rebecca's funeral."

He stopped again, staring at Tricia.

"Danny doesn't use drugs."  
"That's how they knew it was a suicide."

So not only had he killed his sister, but he had killed her boyfriend as well. Roger was starting to not like this version of events.

"You should've thought of that before you wished things this way."  
"I didn't know they would turn out like this!"

"I told you things might not have been better. You didn't listen." He stopped walking, looking around, wondering if he had gotten lost. "Like right now. Hello! Earth to Roger! What's up?"

"Where is it?" he asked.

"Where's what?"  
"Angel's grave."

"Oh, that's over in another cemetery on the other side of town." He stared at her. "What? Did you think it would be here? Collins picked this place out, so how could Angel have been buried here now?"

He let out a sigh and turned around, walking over to a tree and sitting in front of it. He leaned his head back, resting it on the trunk with his eyes closed.

"Why were you looking for it?"

"No reason. Forget it."

"Ok."

They sat in silence for a bit before Tricia spoke up again.

"You could go visit Collins' if you want."

Roger snapped his eyes opened.

"Collins?" She nodded. "He's dead too?" More nodding. "Anyone else you want to tell me about?"

"No one you would care about."

He groaned and rested his head against his knees.

"What happened to Collins?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't need to know yet. Plus, it's a long story and the sun's setting. You had better get home."

"Thanks, mom," he muttered, pulling himself off the ground and heading toward the direction the loft was located in.

* * *

The next few months were some of the hardest Roger had ever gone through. The death of one of his best friends and knowing he had indirectly caused the death of his sister and her boyfriend had shocked the need for heroin completely out of his mind. He no longer psychologically craved the drug, knowing he would be much better off without it. If only the physical need could be shaken as easily.

Some days were better than others, but for the first month all Roger could do was lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. Mark would check up on him often, but it was clear he was certain Roger wasn't going to stick this out. There were times when he had been on the verge of just giving up, but every time he considered it he would think of Mimi or Nathan and know that he has to kick this habit.

He often wondered where his son was. Most likely still living with his aunt and grandmother. He wanted so badly to march down to that part of town and take him back, but he was definitely in no status right now to win a custody battle. He would have to get clean first, get a job, and work hard to make himself look like a respectable member of society. Which would be a lot easier if he didn't have April acting the way she did.

It was like Mimi all over again, only more heartbreaking. At least whenever Roger had to help Mimi stumble to a bed because she was so high she couldn't see straight, she would be mumbling apologies the entire time, begging him not to leave her and promising she would try harder. April would just giggle the entire time and ask Roger to join her because "it's no fun when you're like this."

Roger also found himself wondering about Mimi a lot as well, especially once he got clean and had a clear head. Her face would often crop up in his mind at night when he was trying to fall asleep or when he would hang out on the roof or the fire escape to think. He hadn't seen her yet, but would sometimes hear noises late at night from the apartment below his. He wondered if it was Mimi, or if someone else lived there now.

He always felt a pang of loneliness when he thought about her and realized he hadn't really thought things through when he had wished things had been different. He had always focused on all the negative things about his life-like the HIV and April dying-but he had never really thought about the good things. It had never actually occurred to him that if April lived, he wouldn't have Mimi. He had thought he would still be with April, but he had never really factored in the part about Mimi.

Now that he thought about it, he realized that being with April again wasn't making him as happy as he though it would. Sure, it was great seeing her alive again and everything, but something was just always off. Once the drugs were gone, he realized that she wasn't the same girl he had fallen in love with-she had changed and he wasn't even sure he wanted to stay with her anymore. Mostly he just wanted Mimi back.

"You look deep in thought."

Roger jumped slightly off the couch.

"You know, I really hate when you do that." he said, glaring at the teenager, "Where have you been, anyway? I haven't seen you in a few weeks."

"I was there. Lurking in the background, mostly. You probably didn't notice through the shaking."  
"The shaking stopped about three weeks ago."

Roger had since gotten a job-the same job he had in the other universe, in fact-and was looking into maybe joining another band. Shocked wasn't a strong enough word for how Mark looked when Roger had officially given up his habit and the got a job. And then kept the job long enough to get an actual paycheck to help with the next month's rent.

"Warren was shocked we had paid on time this month and I still don't think he fully believed me when it old him it was because you got a job," Mark had joked with him, which was nice. Roger got the feeling the two weren't as close as they used to be. Mark rarely ever joked with him, or even talked to him anymore. He often felt like there was this invisible wall between the two of them that stopped Mark from ever making any contact with him and if Roger ever said anything to him Mark would just stare at him like he had grown an extra head.

"The past three weeks were a bit boring."

"I'm sorry my life isn't more amusing for you," he grumbled.

"Ooh, someone's cranky."

"Gee, I wonder why…"

"You know, you are the one who…"

"I know, I know! I wished for this. " Every time Roger would make a comment about not liking the way things were, Tricia's default was to respond with "You're the one who made the wish." "I just didn't think they would turn out this way."

"I warned you."  
"I just wish you would just fix this."

"Fix this?"

"Yes, fix this. Just make everything back to the way it was." The way it's supposed to be.

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? You're the one who changed it, just change it back."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't. it doesn't work that way. Sorry, you're stuck."

He groaned, leaning his head back against the couch.

He heard a crash in the stairwell followed by hysterical giggling. April had come home. Roger dragged himself off the couch and walked over to pick her up and help her to the bed.

He was read for this dream to be over and for him to just wake up and go home.

* * *

_Ok, I know that seems like a lot and probably seems over-the-top and illogical, but hopefully it didn't. I tried to make Rebecca and Danny's deaths seem logical and not way out there and I did the same with Collins, you guys just don't know the story yet. Hopefully, when you do it won't seem stupid. I'm sorry if this all seems ridiculous..._


	5. Getting Worse

_Fun fact: This is the first chapter I have written on my new laptop. Half of it is also the first bit of a story I have ever written while on the move (It was written in Dallas with some improvements and such done in Nashville. God, I love my laptop.)_

_Thank you, Steph._

_Enjoy..._

* * *

Weeks went by and things never got better, they always just seemed to get worse. Not by a lot-another major disaster hadn't happened-but just small things. April was slowly starting to spiral out of control. There was rarely a time now when she wasn't high or drunk or messed up in some other way. Roger had started to hide the money he earned, just like Mark had done. The only difference was, he knew where April would look and, so, knew the best place to hide it without her being able to find it. He checked the money every day and none was ever missing. He also checked with Mark, who also always had all the money he had earned, which lead him to believe she was paying for the drugs in other ways. Which disturbed him as much as the drug use.

Mark was beginning to spend less and less time in the loft. He was always making excuses to leave, like them needing more milk or something, and then would disappear for hours at a time. Whenever Roger glanced out the windows during these times, he would usually see him meet up with Maureen somewhere down the street. Things were getting more serious between the two. At least, on Mark's side. Roger was now convinced that Mark still saw a shot of the two being together.

Roger wished Jodie was around in this universe, to help Mark out. She was so good for him and had made him so happy. He wondered where she, and the real Tricia with the rest of her family, was. He had asked Tricia once, but she said she didn't know and neither should he.

"You never would have known them here, so you never would've known what happened to them."

He also felt bad for Joanne, who knew what was going on, but just didn't seem to be able to bring herself to call Maureen out on it. She would stop by the loft sometimes, asking if Maureen was there. She never was, so this often lead to an awkward conversation between the two. Joanne would question where Mark and April were and Roger would do his best to answer. April was always an easy one-high in the bedroom (although, he always left out the "high" part) but Mark was harder. He didn't know why, but Roger would always cover for him, lying that he was at the store or at work or shooting something. Even though what his friend was doing was wrong, stupid, and hurting not only Joanne but himself, Roger just couldn't tell Joanne the truth. She knew he knew, but just like with Maureen, could never bring herself to call him out on it.

And so she would leave after five torturous minutes of awkward conversation. Another victim to Maureen's childish and immature nature. Roger had never realized before how much she had grown up. She was easily the most childish of the group and, so, he had always viewed her as the child, but she definitely wasn't a child. _This _Maureen was a child. A selfish child who didn't care whom she hurt or what she did, as long as she was happy.

It hurt Roger to see his friend go through that, but couldn't bring himself to actually talk to him about it. It just didn't seem like they had that relationship where he could just say whatever the hell he wanted to anymore. That worried him more than the April situation.

What worried him the most, however, was the Mimi situation. He had been here for almost four months now and had still never seen her. He still listened to those noises downstairs and wonder if it was her, hoping if he strained hard enough he would maybe hear her voice drift up through the floorboards, muttering some Spanish curse word like she often did when she got angry.

He couldn't bring himself to go down there, though. What if it wasn't her who lived there? What if it was someone else entirely and Roger looked like a complete moron knocking on this stranger's door for no good reason? He would no longer be able to fool himself into believing that he was listening to Mimi moving around on the floor below him if he found out it wasn't her.

On the other hand (and possibly even worse) what if it was Mimi? What would he do? What would he say? "I know we've never met each other before, but there's another universe where we're engaged and you're pregnant my child. Even though that's an entirely other universe than this one, I still love you more than anything in the universe (both this one and the other one) so will you go out with me?"

She'd probably call the cops.

Or her boyfriend.

What if she had another boyfriend? What if she was living this perfectly fine, happy life? One way better than the one Roger had tried to give her. Would he be willing to try and take that away from her just so he could be a little happier in this place?

No, he probably couldn't. He would just walk away and leave her to continue with her life. It would be worse than if she wasn't there in the first place.

He was at work contemplating for what felt like the millionth time if he should just go down there already, fake needing milk or sugar or something, just to get it out of the way and see if she was there, when Gary walked over to him

"Hey, Rog, your girlfriend's on the phone. She sounded a little stressed, you should go talk to her, I'll cover for you"

"Thanks, Gary." Roger liked Gary, he was really nice and always willing to help anybody out.

Roger was a little worried. April pretty much never sounded stressed about anything and now she's calling him at work (He hadn't even known she knew where he was working at, let alone the phone number for the place.) stressing over something.

"Hey, babe," he said, picking up the phone in the backroom, "What's up?"

"I'm in jail," she said, panic in her voice.

"You're _where_?"

"In jail."

"Why the hell are you jail?"

"I was walking in the park and I ended up walking into this area where these two guys were getting into this huge, heated argument. There was this girl who was trying to break things up between the two. One guy just told her to stay out of it and shoved her back and they kept going at it. Then the fight got physical and one of them knifed the other and I just kind of got caught up in the fight and the police came and-you know them-they just arrested me along with the others like I was in the fight."

If Roger was reading between the lines well enough, April had been trying to buy drugs, but her dealer had gotten into a fight with the customer ahead of her. And now she was in jail. Great.

"April, how could you have done something so stupid? Why didn't you get out of there?"

"I'm sorry, ok?"  
Roger shook his head. She was always "sorry", but she never sounded sincere.

"I need you to come bail me out."  
"Bail you out? April, do you have any idea how much that's going to cost?"

"So, you're going to just let me sit here in jail over night? This is New York City! Do you realize what kinds of people are put in these jails?"

She was right, he couldn't just leave her there. He sighed.

"I get off in about an hour, I'll come bail you out then."

"Thank you, so much! I swear, I am never doing something stupid like this again."

Yeah, right.

"Ok, see you in an hour."

"See you."

He hung up the phone and leaned his head against the wall. He hoped, for both his sake and hers, that she had not had any heroin on her when they arrested her.

* * *

Roger had spent three hours at the police station, waiting to bail April out and then another two going through the actual process. It was almost midnight by the time they got home. She hadn't actually purchased any drugs yet, but bail had still cost him almost all the money he had left. He walked over to the couch and collapsed onto it with a sigh as April casually walked into their bedroom.

How had he let things get like this? He had had everything and he still managed to lose it. He got rid of his drug addiction, but there was nothing really to show for it. He was still kicked out of his previous band, his health hadn't improved much. (Living in a shitty loft apartment where there's barely enough money to pay the rent, let alone buy food and staying up almost every night to take care of your stoned girlfriend tend to fuck up your health.) He had a job, but it barely helped any and they were still living paycheck to paycheck.

He didn't have HIV, but, honestly, what was the point? What was the point in having a chance at living a full life when he didn't really have anything to live for? He was convinced that he and April were over. There just wasn't anything left anymore. No spark. No chemistry. The love that was once there was gone, disintegrated by time and troubles. And he was sure it wasn't coming back. His friendships were all gone. Collins was dead; he had outgrown Maureen's immature behavior while she got worse and worse; and he barely even saw Mark anymore, he wasn't even sure he could remember the last time they had hung out together.

The door to his room opened and April came waltzing out, heading straight for the door.

"Where are you going?" Roger asked, snapping his head up.

"Out," she replied simply, making a very poor attempt at looking innocent.

"At midnight?"

"Yeah…."

Roger stared her down, determined to get her to actually admit where she was going. He was sick of taking all the lies she gave him.

"Well…See, I never actually got anything.

"Seriously?" He stood up. "You _just _got bailed out of jail and the first thing you do is go straight back out to the streets to buy illegal drugs? Yeah, that's real smart, April!"

His intense anger had finally reached its boiling point with April. It was like the bitter Roger from the other universe had returned with a vengeance.

"Oh, please! Like you never did anything-"

"Yeah, I used to, April! I don't anymore! Because now I've managed to grow some brains and realize that stuff was killing me! Why can't you do the same?"

"Because I'm not as strong as you." ad anyone else said this, it would've caused Roger's anger to fall almost instantly. However, it was April; he knew she didn't mean it, she didn't even sound sincere when she said it.

"Don't give me that bullshit, April. You haven't quitted because you don't want to! Because you don't want to face the real world where there are problems and jobs and the possibility of starving or becoming homeless because you can't pay the bills! All you care about is yourself and doing whatever you can to make yourself happy!"

That actually seemed to cause an effect. She just stood there, staring at him open mouthed.

"Fuck you," she whispered and then she turned and ran out the door.

* * *

More weeks went by and things had still gotten worse. April hadn't spoken to him and he had taken to sleeping on the couch. Most nights he would lay awake, staring out the window at the sky and thinking over what he should do. He and April were pretty much over, so what did he do now? Did he officially break up with her? What if she took that as to mean she should leave? He couldn't just let her go out onto the streets alone. Who knows what could happen to her out there?

But he couldn't just leave things the way they were. It wasn't fair to him and it wasn't fair to April. Although, how she couldn't realize things were over was beyond him…

He needed someone to talk to. Unfortunately, there was no one. Every time he tried to approach the subject with Mark, he would just say how great it was that Roger was getting his life back on track and express his hope that April would join him soon and things would be better. These were the only times Roger could spot the shadow of the man his best friend used to be and he couldn't bring himself to destroy that

Maureen was definitely out. She didn't care about anyone's problems but her own. Joann was also out, since she and Roger could hardly call their relationship a friendship. The same went for all of Roger's other friends. He liked them and enjoyed hanging out with them, but he couldn't confide his huge personal problems to them.

And the one friend he would usually turn to when he had problems like this and had no one to turn to was dead. Which was how he ended up walking through a cemetery one Autumn afternoon.

"Whatchya doing?"

Of course she would show up now. That was how she worked. Weeks of nothing and then she would show up just when he wanted to be completely alone.

"Where do you think?" he snapped sarcastically.

"Well, it would appear you are heading for a grave? Care to tell me which one? There are quite a few."

He flinched at the mention of how many people he had lost.

"Collins."  
"Ok, I figured. He's this way." And she turned on her heel and headed off toward a hill. Roger followed without hesitation.

Once he got there he just stared at the headstone. It was very surreal. Collins had always been a sort of constant in Roger's life, ever since he took his philosophy class at NYU all those years ago. He wasn't always there physically, but he was there spiritually and would always be coming back at some point. Before now, Roger had been able to sort of fool himself into feeling like Collins wasn't dead-he was just on another one of his trips, whether for fun or for a job. Now, staring at his friend final resting place, there was no denying it any longer. Collins was dead and he wasn't coming back. Roger had thought he had hit rock bottom in the other universe after April had killed herself and he found about the HIV. He was wrong. That was he sky compared to where he was now. He just stood there, staring at the tombstone, but not really seeing it. Everything was so messed up and wrong and no matter what he did it never seemed to get any better. Maybe the thing he had to do was just get out of the city-away from all the bad memories. That seemed like the most logical solution, but there was something he had to do first…

* * *

Roger had to knock on that door at least once, just to see if she lived there. He stared at the door, unmoving.

"So, do you plan on doing anything or do you plan on spending another twenty minutes staring at the door?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I'm just….Thinking…"

"About…?"

"What if she doesn't live there? Or she does, but she's totally happy and everything's perfect for her?"  
"Roger, if you happen to knock on that door and she answers because she lives there, do you honestly think everything's perfect for her?"

He didn't respond, she had a point.

Finally, he raised his fist and knocked three times. He stayed frozen in the same position he had been standing in moments before, holding his breath. Nothing happened. He didn't even hear any noises inside. Whoever lived there must not be home. He turned back toward the stairs and headed up them, deciding he would check again before he left.

Something was wrong. Roger could tell the second he walked in the door. For one thing, April was sitting at the window, staring at it with a letter in her hand, crying. Then, when Roger walked in she looked up at him and didn't glare or turn around and snub him like she had been doing for the past few weeks. Also, she wasn't high.

"What's wrong?" Roger asked cautiously.

"Oh..Um…Nothing, really…Just a letter from my mom…" He kept staring at her, waiting for her to explain. She just stared absentmindedly into her lap where the letter lay. Then she looked up. "You want to get high with me? No, wait!" she exclaimed off the look on Roger's face. "Just this once! Please."

"Why?"

"I just really need this right now."  
"April, you never need drugs…And you certainly don't need me to do them with you."

She returned to staring out the window.

"My sister got arrested," she commented almost emotionlessly. That shocked him.

"What? Why?"

"The odds of her getting off are pretty slim, according to my mom. There's too much evidence against her."  
"April, what did she do?"

She stopped staring out the window and glanced into her lap. Then she looked up at Roger and stared for a while in concentration

"She killed her son."

The words didn't make sense at first. Surely he had misunderstood her.  
"She…What?"

"She killed her son. Not, like, murdered or anything, but…He had asthma and he had an attack and she wouldn't give him the inhaler. At least, that's what children's services says. They say it was a case of child neglect and abuse."

He still couldn't believe what he was hearing. After all, this was a different universe. Maybe Carla had a kid of her own here. One who also happened to have asthma, maybe it ran in the family... That had to be it, because he didn't want to think of the alternative…

"I… I didn't know she had a kid…"

"What?…Oh…Um, yeah…She had one a few years ago…I just never mentioned him because…Well, you know how much I hate talking about them…"

"Yeah…"

"I'm going out," she said suddenly jumping up and tossing the letter down on the metal table before walking out the door.

The door had barely slid into place before Roger walked over to the letter and picked it up to read it. Any hope he had had was gone once he was half-way through the letter, where Margaret explained how Carla had managed to cause the death of April's son only after having him for three and a half years. "I told you I was clearly the better choice to raise him. I hope you can manage to live with what you've done." she ended. Roger vaguely wondered in the back of his numb mind if it had really been Carla who had killed him or if it was really Margaret…

He couldn't stand being in the room anymore. He threw the letter back onto the table and walked out the door and down the stairs. He couldn't make it out the door, he just walked over to the corner of the bottom of the floor and lost it. He started screaming and punching the walls, the vending machines, anything he could reach. Finally, he stopped and just slid down the wall and sat on the floor with his head in his hands, sobbing.

It wasn't fair. Nathan was only three. He never did anything wrong, he never hurt anybody. He was an innocent little kid and now he was gone. And the worst part was Roger could've done something to stop it. He should've confronted April about it the second this had happened, but he hadn't. Instead he worried about being good enough to be his father and waited while everything got worse and worse. He had thought he had hit rock bottom earlier, but he was wrong, there didn't seem to be a way things could get worse than they were right then.

He wasn't sure how long he was down there before he heard the sounds of someone coming down the stairs. He stood back up and tried to fix his appearance, sure he looked like hell and there wasn't any fixing it. He walked over to one of the vending machine and pulled out some money to make it look like he had come down there for a real reason.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a figure standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at him. He must look worse than he thought. He pressed a random button, grabbed the bottle, and turned to run back up the stairs, past the figure, but he froze. He couldn't move or think or even breathe.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at him with hollow eyes was a girl. She was very thin, her clothes were almost falling of her frame and she was holding a sweater very tightly around herself. Her dark skin looked pale and weather and she looked tired and depressed. Her eyes were slightly bloodshot and looked tired with dark bags under them-one of them was black. She was the most beautiful thing he had seen in months.

"Are you ok?" she asked, "I heard screaming."

He couldn't respond at first, he was too busy trying to take in as much of her as he could. Her voice sounded even weaker than she looked.

"I'm…Fine…" he finally choked out.

She didn't look convinced, but turned around to leave. As she took one step up the stairs, however, she stumbled slightly. He moved forward immediately to help her, but she righted herself and kept moving. Then she swayed slightly and fell backward. He leapt forward and caught her just before she could fall down the stairs.

"Mimi!"

* * *

_Before any of you say anything, I would like to point out that I did not do anything.I'm not the one who withheld Nathan's inhaler from him. Just a feeble attempt on my part to stop the murder attempts... How about reminding you that you can't read the end without me writing it? Does that work? o.o ~pulls out shield and hides behind it for several weeks~ Look on the brightside: Mimi's in the story now. That makes you guys happy, right? o.o I'll just go write the next chapter..._


	6. Light My Candle?

_I'm so sorry for the delay. I got really paranoid and picky about this chapter. It's a huge chapter and it was really hard to write. Really, REALLY hard. And I was so paranoid that it wouldn't turn out right and everything. And then I got really sick for a day, then this website went down, so I couldn't post the new chapter, and when it got back up the power in my area went down. yeah, I had great luck this week ~rolls eyes~ But I got it in the end! _

_I apologize if the liens seem off, I tried very hard to write it well, but it's hard to translate song into normal!speak._

_Enjoy. :)_

* * *

Mimi woke up with a headache. She groaned and rolled over, pressing her head into the pillow, not wanting to get up. Then she sat up quickly, causing her to grab at her head as it throbbed. Once the throbbing subsided she glanced around her, confused.

Why was she here? She hadn't remember going to bed. Had she had another blackout? She thought back to what she had done the night before. She had finished with work, then she had been out doing some errands, she had come home and tried to get some sleep before her next night of work. The problem was, she couldn't sleep. She was too restless and couldn't stay still for long. Which is why she was up to hear the screaming out in the stairwell.

She remembered going down the stairs to see what was going on. Her original plan had to been to yell at whoever the fuck was making such a huge racket and tell him to shut-up. Then she saw him. He had the look of someone who was once strong, but had become ill and weakened. His eyes had a sunken in look to them and had slightly dark circles around them. He was the most beautiful thing she had seen in months.

"Are you ok?" she finally asked once she had found her voice.

"I'm…Fine…." he choked out, looking anything but fine. His eyes were bloodshot, his knuckles were bleeding, his clothes disheveled, and she could see the remnants of tear tracks on his face. She recognized him now as the man who lived in the apartment above hers.

She decided he probably wanted to be alone and turned to leave. Did she ever come upstairs? She couldn't remember. She just sat in the bed, staring at the wall and trying to figure out what had happened.

"Oh, you're up," a voice suddenly said and she jumped. She glanced up to see the boy from upstairs standing in the entranceway to her "room". She could do nothing but stare at him.

"What…What are you doing here?"

"Oh, uh… You passed out while you were heading up the stairs. I couldn't let you stay there and You wouldn't wake up, so I just brought you up here."

Well, that was nice of him. What did he want? Because if there was one thing Mimi had learned over the years it was that guys were always after something from you.

"Uh…I know I probably shouldn't have stuck around, but I was worried about you and wanted to make sure you were all right."

Strange thing was, he seemed sincere. Well, that was nice of him and all, but she did not need a guy to hang around baby-sitting.

"Thanks," she said, throwing the covers off and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The boy walked closer to her and she shot a glance at him. "What?"

"Just making sure you don't fall over again."

"I'm fine," she said, standing up. However, she barely took a step before getting light-headed and sinking back down onto the bed. The boy lurched forward and she held her hand up to let him know to back off a bit.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "Maybe you should lay back down."

"I'm fine. I just haven't eaten much lately."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"A few days ago."

"A few _days_ ago?!"

"Yeah, I don't really always have the time to-where are you going?"

She didn't want to seem clingy or anything, but she didn't want this guy to go running out her door before she even learned his name.

"To get you something to eat."

"No, you don't have to do that."

"But I want to."

They remained where they were staring at each other for several moments before he turned and ran out the door. She would've gone after him, except she felt like she wouldn't be able to lift herself out of the bed. She settled herself against the pillows, watching as the last few rays of sunlight filtered ion through the curtains on her window. She had time for a short nap before work.

* * *

Roger decided to make her some soup, since it would be light on her stomach. She had already fallen back asleep by the time he had returned. While he let the soup cook on the stove, he stood in the entrance to her "room", leaning against the wall and watching her sleep.

He couldn't believe how thin she looked; she had always been thin before, but now it was like you could see every bone under her skin. And she definitely looked ill, her skin was pale with a grayish tone to it. Even in sleep, she looked troubled, with an almost grimace on her face. He wanted to gather her in his arms and never let go, but he knew she probably wouldn't react very well to that, so he just stayed where he was and wait until she woke up.

She ended up napping for longer than he thought she would and her soup was running the risk of getting cold, so he finally decided to wake her up.

"Um…." He walked over to the side of her bed. "Mimi….." he shook her slightly. "Wake up…" She stirred slightly and her eyes slowly opened. "I made you some soup."

"Thanks…" she said slowly in a confused way as she tried to sit up. Roger put his hand behind her back and helped her sit up, leaning her back against the wall. Then he handed her the bowl of soup and returned to standing at the doorway.

"You know, you don't have to stand over there…" she said after a moment of silence. Then she gestured toward the space next to her bed, "Grab a chair."

He dragged one of her mismatched kitchen chairs over to the side of the bed and sat down, trying not to stare at her. Mimi started eating her soup and they lapsed into a semi-awkward silence.

"I'm Mimi, by the way," she said suddenly, "And you are…?"

He had to struggle again to find his voice.

"I'm Roger. I live upstairs."

"I know." He stared at her. "I recognized you from when I first moved in here. Didn't you help me carry some of my boxes up the stairs?"

"Oh, yeah…" He remembered that now. It had been a few years ago; she had been struggling with some of the larger boxes and said her friend was running late because of work, so he carried some up while he waited for April to get ready for them to go out.

"Thanks for the soup, by the way," she said after a moment, "You really didn't have to…"

"You said you hadn't eaten in a few days and you didn't have anything here," he responded, "I couldn't just let you starve. That wouldn't have been very neighborly." She smiled and he couldn't help but smile with her. When she smiled, her face glowed and she looked younger and healthier.

She continued eating the soup and the semi-awkward silence surrounded them again.

"Well, now that you're all right, I'll go," Roger finally said as he stood up, not wanting to leave, but not wanting to seem like some creepy stalker who wouldn't leave, "I don't want to-"

"Don't go!" Mimi suddenly said, much more loudly than she had intended. Roger froze and stared at her. "Stay. Please? I haven't had anyone over in a while and …It's kind of lonely." She wasn't sure why she was telling him this and was certain she sounded like a creepy, clingy freak, but she didn't care. For the first time in a long, long time someone was with her and she wasn't alone. She didn't want that to end so soon.

"Ok," he said surprisingly, sitting back down and she smiled before returning to her soup.

"So, you don't normally have people over?" She shook her head. "Why not?"

She thought that over carefully before answering.

"I don't really have anyone to have over."

"You don't?" She shook her head again. "Why not?"

"I don't know. I just don't really have any friends."

"Why not?"  
She thought that over as well.

"I prefer not to get close to people."

That took him by surprise. He was quiet for a while, debating whether to ask her his question or not. Finally he decided to just go for it.

"Why don't you want to get close to people?"

She looked at him in surprise, clearly she was not expecting him to ask her to elaborate.

"Because the more people you're close to, the easier it is to get hurt," she finally said. That surprised him. This was definitely not the Mimi he knew, this was pretty much the opposite. This was him, in pretty much every way except looks. She had the exact same pessimistic, depressed outlook on life Roger had had. It was a depressing thing to watch.

"But, if you're never close to people, then you'll always be alone."

She stared at him for a long time and he stared back at her, refusing to be the first to look away.

"Do you remember last Christmas?" she suddenly said. Roger was so taken aback he couldn't speak for a moment.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Do you remember last Christmas?"

Roger just stared at her silently.

"I didn't expect you to…Forget I said anything."

"What did you-"

"I said, forget it!…Don't worry about it…" But he continued to stare at her, waiting for an answer. She groaned and dropper her face into her hands before looking back up. "It's just…Every time I see you I think of last Christmas when our power was out."

It took a moment for Roger to realize she must have been talking about the day they had met.

"With the candle?"

Her eyes immediately expanded.

"Yes!…Wow, I can't believe you remembered…I'm surprised I remembered." She actually wasn't. That night was all she could think of for weeks. Pretty pathetic, but she couldn't change the fact that on her cold walks home or the nights she spent alone staring out her window in bed, she had thought about it.

"How could I forget?" he said without thinking. It probably wasn't a good idea to let her know that he knew her way better than she thought. As the words came out, though, all he could think of was the night they had officially met.

* * *

_Flashback_

_Christmas Eve _

April was sure taking a while. Roger paced back and forth in the loft, waiting for her to get back. She should've been home from work by now, even with her planned detour. He wanted her tog et home, already. They had the lfo tot themselves for the night. Mark and Collins were planning on going out to Maureen's protest (Which Roger and April had opted to skip, preferring spending some alone time together getting high. It seemed much more appealing than listening to Maureen rant about whatever was illing her this week.) Currently, mark was out looking for Collins who had done a disappearing act. Roger knew he should be out there helping find his friend, but figured he was probably ok-just stopped somewhere to get a drink or something.

Finally, there was a knock at the door. _She must've forgotten her key again_, he thought as we walked over to the door to open it.

"Finally, what took you so-?" he asked, trailing off quickly as he opened the door to find a girl standing in the stairwell who was definitely not April, "Oh. Uh, sorry, I thought you were-"

"Got a light?" she asked playfully, her initial look of shock melting away quickly as she held a candle out to him. He just stared at her for several seconds, unable to do much else. She walked past him into the apartment and twirled around to face him. It was once she got into his apartment, out of the dark, lightless stairwell, that he realized she looked familiar.

"Do I know you?" he asked, thinking frantically and trying to figure out where he could have seen her from. As he scrutinized her closely he realized that she was shaking slightly. "You're shivering, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. They turned off my heat downstairs, so…" She trailed off as he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders and then glanced down for second almost shyly. He couldn't help but notice the way the moonlight made her hair shine and her eyes sparkle. She glanced back up and held her candle out to him. "Would you light my candle? Please?" He stared at her, unable to speak. "What are you staring at?" she asked slowly, looking a little nervous. He shook his head slightly, trying to get it back into work mode.

"Uh…Sorry…It's just….Your hair in the moonlight is…Um…." This was new. Roger had never acted flustered and weird around a girl before. He wasn't some awkward teenager with a crush. In fact, he had a girlfriend, so this line of conversation had to stop. He threw his mind away trying to think of something else to say. "Are you sure we haven't met before? Because you really look familiar." Yeah, that's a sure-fire way to get her out quickly and not start another line of conversation. Idiot.

She smiled as he rambled on, seeming to enjoy his misery. Bitch.

"Well, I live downstairs," she finally said, seeming very amused. But he knew that wasn't it. Roger and his fellow roommates were hardly part of the welcome wagon for new tenants. But he decided to just let it go and light the damn candle so she would leave.

"I'm pretty sure that's not it." He struck a match and held her hand study so he could light the wick. "But I'm sure it'll come to me eventually."

He smiled at her, hoping she would take that as her cue to leave. She smiled back and went to take a step around him, but her eyes flutter and she stumbled slightly. Without thinking, he threw his arms out and grabbed her shoulders, straightening holding her up while she straightened herself.

"Are you ok?" he asked, suddenly panicky. What if she fainted? What should he do? "Can you make it back to your apartment?"

She stood there for a few moments with her eyes closed, catching her breath before nodding.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, I just haven't eaten much today. At least the room stopped spinning," she joked with a weak laugh and he cracked half a smile, still worried about her. She had a cute laugh. And a pretty smile.

"What?" she asked. He didn't answer, wondering what she was talking about. "You were staring at me again."

"Oh...Uh… I'm sorry. It's just…You have a really pretty smile."

That made her smile bigger, which made her eyes sparkle even more and she turned around to walk toward the window. Roger took his chance to turn himself around so he wasn't looking at her to gather his thoughts. He really had to get her out of here. He had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who was coming back soon. And who would probably be really pissed off at finding a gorgeous other girl in her apartment. With her boyfriend. Alone. Yeah, he had to get her out of here.

"It blew out again," she suddenly said and walked back over to him, holding the candle out, "I guess it's drafty in here. Could you spare another one?"

She smiled flirtatiously at him and leaned in a little too closely to him as he relit it. They just stood there for a few moments, staring at each other. It was more than a little awkward.

"Well…." Roger said, hoping she would take a hint and leave.

"Yeah...Ow!" She immediately pulled the second hand that had been gripping the candle away and looked at her finger before sticking it in her mouth. Roger instantly reached for her hand, wanting to see the burn, but stopped himself.

"You got to be careful with that. The wax is…" The rest of the sentence died in his throat as he couldn't help but stare at her as she sucked on her finger. She caught him staring and smiled impishly.

"Dripping," she said, thinking much more quickly than he could. She reached her hand around behind him and pulled him closer to her as she ran her leg up between his. "You know, it feels really good between my-"

"Fingers!" he exclaimed, probably too loudly, as he jerked backward, "Yeah, my sister and I used to mess around with the wax of candles when we were younger and drip it on each other's arms and hands." Odd thing was, that actually wasn't a lie. He and Rebecca did the oddest things when they were bored. "Well, goodnight."

She looked shocked at first. From sexy candle foreplay to odd activities to amusing yourself and your sister in half a second flat. In the same movement she turned around and slipped the jacket off her shoulders, handing it to Roger, still with that confused look on her face and walked out the door. He breathed a sigh of relief and made for the couch, tossing the jacket onto the armchair, but stopped at the sound of the door knocking again. He hadn't even made it to the door before it slid open and the girl came walking back in, her candle blown out again.

"It blew out again?" he asked knowingly, pulling the matches back out of his pocket. She ducked around his arm, however, looking around her at the floor.

"No, I think I dropped my stash." Oh. He watched her for a few seconds.

"You know, you're candle's out. It might be easier to find it if it was lit."

"Ugh! God, I am freakin' out here." She ignored him. "I know I had it when I walked in here. Maybe it's on the floor." She got down on her hands and knees and started searching around. Roger couldn't help but notice how her ass stuck out in the position she was in. She turned around to say something, but stopped when she caught sight of him staring at her. She smiled coyly.

"You know, they say I have the best ass below 14th Street. Is it true?"

Roger gave his head another little shake.

"What?"

"You're staring again."

"Oh…Uh…No…I mean, you do…You have a nice…Um…" He began grasping at straws again to try and avert the conversation. "I _know _I've seen you somewhere before." Oh. Great. We're back to this again. Man, he had a badly one-track mind. Mimi let out a groan of frustration.

"All right, fine! Do you go to the Cat Scratch Club?" she almost snapped at him. "That's where I work. As a dancer. Now, are you going to help me look or not?"

Roger almost started laughing at how stupid he had been. Of course! How could he have forgotten, they had just been there a few months ago for Benny's bachelor party.

"Oh, yeah! They used to tie you up."

"It's a living, ok? Better than prostitution." The last part she said quietly, almost as if convincing herself.

"I didn't recognize you without you handcuffs," he joked.

"Ok, you're right. This no light thing is not working." She held her candle out wordlessly and he cocked an eyebrow at her. "Please?" She pouted slightly at him and he couldn't help but smile as he relit the candle. _Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend._ A girlfriend whom he fights with often, is usually a mess, and was supposed to be home _two hours ago._ But a girlfriend nonetheless. And it's not like Roger was a saint himself. Besides, this girl didn't even look legal.

"Why don't you just forget that stuff? Are you even old enough for legal drugs? You look sixteen."

She scoffed in indignation.  
"I'm nineteen!" Well, there goes that theory. She used the table to pull herself back up and began walking around, searching the rest of the apartment. "And, anyway, I'm old for my age. I've seen so much shit you wouldn't believe and been though things your parents only heard about on the news."

"So, you're going with the assumption that you're the only one who has it hard?"

She stopped her searching momentarily to flash him a wry smile.

"No. Just one bad enough to more than qualify me as middle aged."

Roger chuckled lightly at her fiery personality and glanced down at the floor. Where he saw small baggy of white powder.

"Oh, here it-" he stopped abruptly as he picked the baggy up before slipping it into his back pocket. A part of him felt bad about lying to the girl, but April was taking for-freakin'-ever and he was starting to feel nauseous. Hey, she should've been more careful.

"What's that?" she said quickly, walking over to him.

"Uh…A candy bar wrapper." _Ooh, nice one Roger, no way in hell she'll see through _that.

"Uh-huh," she said walking closer to him, "Tell me the truth." She reached behind him toward his back pocket and he took her distraction as an opportunity to pinch the candle out. Maybe if she had no light she would leave faster. She jerked back and stared at the candle for several seconds, as if unable to comprehend that it was no longer burning. "Hey!" She playfully shoved him "What did you to do my candle?"

"I guess it's drafty in here," he said, smiling.

She smiled back and gave him a playful push again, causing him to back up until he felt the back of his knees hit the couch. She gave him a light push and he fell down onto it. She put her hands on her hips and looked at him expectantly.

"That was my last match," he said, avoiding her eyes.

"That's all right," she said suddenly, climbing over him and sitting on the arm of the couch, "Our eyes'll adjust. Thank God it's a full moon tonight."

"You know, it might not even be the moon at all. I heard the other day that Spike Lee is shooting down the street." He pointed in a random direction, hoping she would just buy it and leave. Instead she grabbed his hand and began playing with it as she smiled playfully at him.  
"Bullshit. What was that you were saying earlier about my hair looking nice in the moonlight?"

He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face.

"Well, it looks nice in spotlights too."

She laughed. Ok, he had to get her out of here. She was a little too close and he was starting to develop a reaction and if she noticed that there was probably no way in hell she was leaving here before removing her clothes. Roger had never cheated on a girlfriend before and he didn't plan on doing so now.

"You're hands are really cold." Yes. That was the best he could come up with.

"Yours aren't exactly hot pockets." They both laughed. "They're big. Remind me of my father's. He died when I was young, so whenever I think about him I remember him dancing with me around the living room with me standing on his feet. His hands always seemed so big to me." She fell silent for a few moments. "Do you want to dance?" she suddenly asked, jumping off the couch and pulling him with her.

"With you?"  
"No," she scoff sarcastically, "With my father."

He laughed.

"I'm Roger, by the way."

She pulled herself really close to him, wrapping her arms around his back and sliding her hands down it.

"They call me Mimi," she whispered in his ear and he felt her slip the baggy of powder out of his back pocket and slip it into her own. And he didn't even care. She wrapped one of her hands around the back of his head and pulled herself up to him. They were half a second away from kissing when there was a knock at the door. They jerked apart and stared at each other. Then there was another knock.

"Uh…I'll get that…"

"Good idea, seeing as it's your apartment," she joked and he smiled back at her. He slid the door open to find April hanging off some Hispanic guy, high as a kite. Well, that explains why it took her so long. Apparently she didn't feel like waiting to get home to shoot up. Which wasn't very fair considering Roger was waiting for her for that exact reason.

"Is she yours?" he asked sweetly, "I found her stumbling around on the streets. I figured it best not to just leave her there."

"Uh…Yeah, she lives her." He stepped forward and slipped his arm under hers to help her inside. Mimi stood in the doorway, looking at the two with a look of realization on her face.

"Oh, my God…I am so sorry…I…"

"It's ok."

"And you were trying to get me to leave and…"

"It's ok, really. Don't worry about it."

"I'm just going to go…"

She quickly walked out the doorway.

"Mimi-chica! What were you doing there?" he heard before the door slid completely closed. He stared at it for much longer than was necessary, thinking about that girl.

* * *

_So, there's my complicated chapter. I don't like the ending very much, but I couldn't think of a better one. Oh, well. _


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